The 77th Hunger Games
by dollfaycee
Summary: This story features Katniss and Peeta's daughter, Arabella, who is going into the Hunger Games after the new president brings them back. Will Arabella be able to throw the Capitol just like her mother? Read and find out!
1. Chapter 1

Chapter One

I jumped up, startled into consciousness by the obnoxious yowling outside the front door of our home here in District 12. Buttercup. Sighing, I get up and let the old fat cat in. I've heard stories of my mom almost drowning him once. At times like this, I wish she had. As I walk down the short hall back to my room, I peek into my brother Crow's bedroom. His blonde curls are a mess and he's mumbling in his sleep, but I can tell he's having a good dream because of the way his lips twitch into a smile every now and then. Quietly, I slip back into my own tiny bedroom and nestle down into my warm inviting bed. Closing my eyes, I surprisingly drift back to sleep.

* * *

"Faster, Come on! Keep going, Bella!" Izzi calls as we run through the dense forest, getting tripped up by fallen branches every few steps. My tiny dancer's feet carry me faster than most, but not as fast as Izzi's. The boy behind us isn't quite as fast, but his muscles are huge and rippling. I'm sure he could throw the trident this far...And my worst fears are confirmed as Izzi falls to the ground coughing up blood. Cee, Finnick Odair's only son, had hit her square in the stomach. I want to stop, to try to help her, but I know I can't. "It's all my fault," I whisper sadly, "all my-"

* * *

"FAULT" I scream as I wake up gasping. I look around gathering where I am and how I got here. I squint through the sunlight and realize that I'm in my room, that I'm okay. A few seconds later my parents burst through the door to my bedroom brandishing sharp-looking weapons. "What? What is it, Arabella?!" my mother exclaims, looking around frantically. I let out a giggle and their expressions turn to bewilderment as they lower their large weapons. "It was just a dream," I say, "I'm alright. Sorry to worry you." My dad gives a chuckle and sits at the end of my bed after waddling over. Even after twenty years, he still isn't used to his prosthetic leg. "It's alright, baby. Let's go get some breakfast, hm?" He holds out his arm and I take it. Together we walk down to the kitchen. Aromas of pancakes topped with blue berries, orange juice, freshly churned butter, and cinnamon bread hit my nose. Dad's parents used to own the only bakery in District 12. He's an excellent cook. I'm no good at baked goods. Especially bread. Mostly dinner meals. Stews, meats, you name it. After the rebellion, my parents made it so that hunting is legal in the districts. They tore down the electric fences and let citizens into the woods. Plutarch, our president, came up with the idea because of my mother's skills with a bow and arrow. You'd think I'd inherit some of them, but bows are much too heavy for me, with my tiny stature. I'm 16, almost 17, and stand at a mere 5'1", weighing only 104 pounds. My skill with weaponry is throwing knives. I can hit a mighty buck in the eye no problem. As I sit down to eat, a lock of dark brown hair falls into my eyes. My mom pulls my hair back into her signature braid. As I look into the mirror on the wall, a pair of icy blue eyes stares back at me. I smile at my dad, then the anthem starts playing on the old TV on the counter, and the Capitol seal appears.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter Two

As mom, dad, and I turned towards the TV, and old talk show host named Caesar Flickerman came on. His skin, once cosmetically stretched tight to remove wrinkles, literally sags off of his face. It is dyed an ugly yellow, along with his eyes. His hair and eyelids are dyed pitch black. Ick. How do Capitol people think this looks good? "Hello everyone, I'm Caesar Flickerman." He introduces in a raspy voice. He looks to be at least 90. "I have a tragic announcement to make. Our wonderful president, , was assassinated." Mother goes very pale as she stares at the ugly aging man on the dusty screen. "Stepping up to take his place will be Mr. Gale Hawthorne." Dad lets out a low growl. I want to look at him, but I keep my eyes glued to the screen. "Gale's son, Drake, will be his right hand man." Suddenly the most attractive guy I've ever seen is on the screen. He's tall, maybe 6'6", with deep green eyes the color of spring grass, and long hair that covers his forehead the color of midnight. His features are strong and beautiful. _Stop it! You're drooling! _I warn myself. _And his muscles, oh, his muscles.._ "Bella!" mom yells, breaking me out of my lustful trance for the stunning man on the screen in front of my icy blue eyes. "Yeah..?" I say, blinking at her. "Pay attention." She snaps at me. I look back at Cesar. "His first order of business is to bring back the hunger games. So, ladies and gentleman, prepare for your reapings in 3 days. And may the odds be ever in your favor!" He gives a cheesy smile, and then the screen goes black.

* * *

Later that evening, Izzi and I meet up in the woods that surround District 12 to discuss the Games. Since there's only one tribute from each of the 13 Districts, there will only be 13 tributes this year. 12 to kill. I tell her I've decided to volunteer, no matter who is chosen. I need to continue my mother's rebellion against the Capitol. Of course, Izzi tells me what a stupid idea it is. It got to the point where she just got up and stormed off. Oh Izzi, so caring. I sigh and walk home. As I open the front door, I hear voices in the living room. Mom, dad, Crow, and one other drunken, raspy voice I don't recognize. I walk into the living room and an old man with tan, rough, leathery skin starts coughing after sipping on the flask in his left hand. "Come on in, Sweetheart." He says to me, almost sarcastically, before grinning at mom. Who is this man, why does he have the right to call me "sweetheart", and what is so damn funny about it?! I shoot him a glare and mom laughs. "Relax baby. This is Haymitch Abernathy. He was my mentor when your father and I were in the games. I was about your age. He, your father, and I are going to be mentoring the District 12 tribute this year. Once we find out who it is anyway." I clear my throat and look at her with sad eyes. "Mom," I start, "I know you'll think I'm the stupidest person ever for doing this, but..I'm going to train for these 3 days, and volunteer to be District 12's tribute."

* * *

_Hi everyone! This is my first fanfiction, so take it easy on me please! I've already written Chapter 3, so I will most likely upload it tomorrow. I haven't typed it yet. I write when I'm bored in study hall. Please review! any input is greatly appreciated. Stay you(:_

_-Dollfaycee_


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter Three

The silence in the room is deafening. Mom and dad stare at me with pain in their eyes. Haymitch clears his throat, breaking the silence as little Crow comes in rubbing his eyes. I turn and smile at him before hugging him. Crow has to be sedated to sleep, so he can sleep for up to two days at a time. His fear of darkness keeps him up all night without medication. He wouldn't last a day in the arena, which is why I have to go. I can survive. I can rebel. I can win. I can beat the Capitol.

* * *

Bull's-eye! The squirrel I hit with my dagger falls out of the tree with a soft _thump_ as it hits the leaf-strewn ground. The dagger hit it straight in the eye. Good pelt and good meat. I'm getting better at this. Training for the arena has been hard. Haymitch pushes me to my limits. I run four miles everyday, walk six to cool down, and walk for an hour every morning after breakfast. Dad teaches me what plants and animals are edible using an old book. Mom takes me hunting in the woods. I only eat what I catch, so I have extra motivation. By the end of the three days, I have lost five pounds of fat and replaced it with six pounds of pure muscle. My legs are leaner, my arms toned, and I have a flat stomach. I feel energized like never before and I look great. I'm ready for the games.

* * *

It's the day of the reaping and everyone is nervous except me. Kind of ironic, isn't it? As I step into the white and lacey knee-length dress my mom laid out for me, I smirk. I look my best in blue, so I tie a baby blue satin ribbon around my waist. It's the perfect touch, showing off my new curves in all the right places. The dress is a bit low cut, accentuating my bust. I slowly pull my hair out of the tie holding it up, watching as dark ringlets fall, a splash of dark against my pale skin and white dress. The blue ribbon makes my icy blue eyes stand out. If I die in the arena, the last personal memory District 12 will have of me is my stunning figure. I bet boys who never noticed me before will be drooling today. I turn as I hear the door creak and Crow's head peeks in. "Can I come in?" he all but whispers. "Of course," I say with a smile. He's been asleep while I trained, so he hasn't seen my transformation until now. "Whoa, you look...you look...beautiful," he says, looking at my dress. "Aweh, thank you, Crowey." I grin. Mom tells us it's time to go, so I take Crow's hand and lead him to the Justice Building. His hand is sweaty and shaking in mine. "It's okay," I whisper soothingly. "You'll be alright; I won't let them get you." I take him to the twelve year old section and kiss the top of his head. His name is only in there once. But even if it's pulled, I'll be taking his place. No, I'm not worried. As I walk past my age group to the stage to say hello to my mom, I hear whistles from the sixteen, seventeen, and eighteen year old sections. I stifle by biting my tongue, until I hear my name being called from the eighteen year old boy's section. I turn and see a tall, handsome man with pale skin, fair blonde hair, and grey eyes. He's been mining since he was ten because his parents died and no one reported it. He takes care of himself, and barely speaks to anyone. "I just wanted to say...that you uh... you look good. Real good." He's blushing as I kiss his cheek. "You're a sweetheart," I say. I can practically smell the jealousy coming from the male hormones around me. I step away and go back to my age group, abandoning the idea of going to see my mom. An old woman with a powder blue wig steps up to the microphone and taps it. "Welcome to the 77th annual Hunger Games! And may the odds be ever in your favor!" Then they tell the story of the uprising my mom started, then a clip of Caesar announcing the newfound games. The screen goes black, and the obnoxious woman pulls a name from the bowl, grinning. "Who's ready to find out which brave tribute will represent District 12 this year?!" She says all too cheerfully. She reads the name, and my heart stops. It's Sean. I scream, "I volunteer!" but the woman smiles. "Good, but we are not having any volunteers this year. District 12 will have two tributes!"

* * *

_Hi everyone! Here's chapter three. Sorry it took so long to upload. Been pretty busy. Happy Holidays! Enjoy!_

_-dollfaycee_


End file.
